


Fiat Lux

by Lukutoukka



Series: Shorts [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic), Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovitch
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Crossover, Gen, Harry Potter References, just for fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 16:08:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15416643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lukutoukka/pseuds/Lukutoukka
Summary: Self-indulgent crack in which in wondered how Peter would react to portkeys.





	Fiat Lux

**Author's Note:**

> Fiat lux - the proper latin for "It shall be light", which doesn't necessarily make sense for the story, but please indulge me and my not any more existing latin.
> 
> This is a nominally a cross-over between the Rivers of London series by Ben Aaronovitch and the [ webcomic Check, Please!](http://checkpleasecomic.com/comic/01-01-01). If you're here because one of them and have never heard of the other, I highly recommend either. 
> 
> You don't need to know much about "Check, Please", I just needed characters to use, if I'm totally honest. I'd like to think you don't need to know much about the Rivers of London, but if you'd like to know a little more, there's the important things at the end.

“That’s from Harry Potter,” Nightingale said flatly, which was the most surprising thing that happened to me that week, even though I’d had two guys and a cup materialize out of thin air in front of me not two hours ago. Nightingale caught me staring.

 

“I do read, Peter,” he said and and the one that had introduced himself as Derek honest to God snickered. The redhead shot him a Look, capital letter and all, but Derek just made a face at him. Nightingale continued as if he didn’t notice. “Although I must say the Latin was rather mangled.” This time, the redhead snorted. 

 

Nightingale looked at them, took in their socked feet, the skates in their hands - Molly had frowned at them until they’d taken them off, probably fearing for the tiles on the floor - and the rest of their getup, which to me looked like serious ice hockey equipment. The redhead who’d introduced himself as Dex had a black eye and bloody knuckles, Derek had two obviously broken fingers, both of them sporting unkempt beards. At least neither of them had a stick with them. Instead, there was big silver cup next to them, both of them unwilling to move far away from it. I wasn’t sure if that was because it had transported them here or because they won it, as they had said.

 

“You really are certain that you had nothing to do with how you got here?” Nightingale asked them and they shook their heads. Their story seemed, as crazy as it sounded at first, plausible enough. They’d just won the Cup, which they insisted to call Lord Stanley’s Cup, and when they’d held it up together in celebration, they’d suddenly found themselves in the grey drizzle of a London night in June.

 

I’d been walking Toby when they suddenly stood in front of me: Two ice hockey players holding onto a trophy, one of them light skinned and redheaded, the other dark skin in a colour that reminded me of myself. Although those details I only took in later, when we were back in the light of the Folly.

 

We all looked at each other confused, nobody moving. Toby had sniffed at their skates and then made to pee against one of them, from which I stopped him just in time. It broke the suspense we’d all been in, at least. After a bit of yelling, we got ourselves introduced and I took them back to the Folly, the two of them walking a little awkwardly next to me, what with all the stuff they were wearing. Not to speak of the skates. Dex grumbled under his breath about how very bad this was for the skates, but Derek hushed him with “Dude, we’re in London, I don’t think your skates are the most important thing here!”, which had worked.

 

I’d brought them by the coach house and Beverly had had a sniff after I’d told her the story. She’d declared the two guys sweaty, but mundane and then stumbled back when she’d touched the cup by accident.

 

“Holy shit,” she’d said and then went to make a few calls. She’d announced that this might take a while, so I had taken Derek and Dex inside. We were standing just inside the front doors now, trying to get through the “yes, magic is real” thing (Dex was very perceptive indeed) without mangling it too much with Harry Potter, which proved hard, considering they’d basically just taken a spin with a portkey. Nightingale continued to insist that that shouldn’t be possible, not as far as he was aware, but as I’d learned the years I’d spent with him, Nightingales knowledge was far from encompassing. I shrugged and told him that Beverly had a line of inquiry going, which unsurprisingly didn’t seem to put him at any ease.

 

Before I could make an argument for her case though, the bell rang. I opened the door to Beverly and an Asian guy in even more pads than Dex and Derek. He was twitching a little, obviously nervous. 

 

“Chowder!” someone exclaimed, followed by “What the fuck, man.”, which I thought was Dex. Chowder started talking very fast, apologizing, but made no venture to come through the doors. Derek and Dex however had no problem at all going over to him, he grabbed both of them by the arm and they vanished as suddenly as they’d come, leaving a lone skate behind.

 

“The hell was that?” I asked and Beverly, who was still standing just outside the door shrugged.

 

“Practical joke gone wrong,” she said and then left, citing a need to talk to her mother. Nightingale and I looked at each other.

 

“So,” I finally said to break the silence. “You’ve read the Harry Potter books. Does that mean I can interest you in some other literature?”

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, I love all of these characters to bits and pieces, and if you do too, or you liked my story, come scream at me on [tumblr](http://vanillivilovesreus.tumblr.com/)
> 
> So here's the promised info about the Rivers of London series you might need for this OS:
> 
> It starts like this: PC Peter Grant interviews a ghost and thus is recruited to the magical branch of the Metropolitan Police, which consists solely of one Thomas Nightingale. When Peter learns his first spell, he thinks “Fuck me, I can do magic.”, then he tries to explain it with science, which explains just about everything about him.
> 
> \- Thomas Nightingale was born in the early 1900s and is the last wizard in Great Britain. (Or so he thinks.)  
> \- At some point he started ageing backwards and now looks like he's in his 40s again.  
> \- Modern technology is a mystery to him (partly because magic destroys microchips and thus a hell of a lot of modern technology, if you think about it)  
> \- _Genii locorum_ , that is, spirits/gods/goddesses of places are a thing. See: Beverly Brook, goddess of a ~~small~~ medium sized river in London, daughter of Mama Thames. They can literally smell what/who people are. At least that is true when it comes to wizards.


End file.
